


A Simple Truth

by Brooklands26



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brooklands26/pseuds/Brooklands26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has a few things he has to do today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Truth

Bucky wakes up and bitches in his head at Steve for being a messy little shit. The punk had abandoned his running shoes in the _middle_ of the hall, his sweaty too-tight shirt and sweats on the floor of the bedroom, and his socks lay forlornly  on the bathroom floor. Again.

Steve yells out a “sorry,” through the glass shower door when Bucky marches in with the hamper and grumbles as he picks up the idiot's socks.

Bucky makes them a non-stellar breakfast of oatmeal and berries, but they eat companionably, until their bellies are warm and full. As they rinse the dishes and stack them in the dishwasher, Steve drops his arm around Bucky’s waist and pulls him in close. They spend ten minutes leisurely necking, their hands never dropping below the waist. Then, Bucky pulls away with a grin, and swats Steve on his boxer-covered butt when he saunters out of the kitchen.

Steve gets dressed, fishes the keys to his motorcycle from the glass bowl by the door and yells “love ya, see ya,” as he runs off to Shield for the day.

Bucky doesn’t bother to reply. He wanders back to their bedroom and picks up Steve’s wet towel off the hardwood floor and hangs it on the hook behind the bathroom door to dry. He shrugs off his Captain America long-sleeved pajamas and unerringly throws them over his shoulder into the hamper too.

He’s got an appointment with the barber in half an hour and decides not to shower first. He took a shower last night and he’ll have to shower again to get off all the little hairs from his behind his ears and neck anyway. He puts on a simple grey t-shirt over his dog-tags (one his, one Steve’s) and black cargo pants and heads out.

On his walk to the barber, he responds to the half a dozen texts from Pepper and Maria and ignores the one text from Tony. It’s in the genius’ short-hand and is filled with baffling emojis anyway.

At the barber, he sighs when he gets into the chair. It’s decision time. His hair has grown quite long, grazing his shoulders. A trim? or a real cut, reminiscent of his short hair during the war? The barber waits patiently as Bucky tries to decide.

He remembers the night before, laying contently beside Steve in bed. Steve had whispered sweet nothings in his ear, peppered his face with chaste, sweet kisses, all the while, carding lazy fingers through the soft strands of Bucky`s hair. He decides on just a trim.

After the barber, Bucky goes to the supermarket and buys some fresh fruit and vegetables. He buys no-pulp orange juice for Steve, and chocolate soy milk for himself. He goes home and puts the groceries away. Then, he curls up on the sofa and reads a few chapters of Lermantov’s A Hero of our Time. He loses himself for a couple of hours, as the Russian words draw delicate pictures in his mind.

For lunch he makes himself a simple salad from mixed greens. His stomach is a little tight, and he’s not that hungry anyways, so it’s enough.  

The afternoon is spent texting back and forth with Pepper and Maria, and doing some laundry. Bucky absolutely loves the smell of clean clothes soft and warm from the dryer, so he does many little loads throughout the week.

An hour before Steve’s expected home, Bucky showers thoroughly, taking a wash cloth to his ears and scrubbing vigorously with shampoo. He conditions his hair with the expensive rosemary and mint stuff that Steve always compliments him on. Stepping out of the shower, he palms the mirror, wipes away the filmy sweat, and shaves very carefully.

Satisfied, he dresses, putting on a pair of dark-wash jeans that emphasize his lean hips, does nice things for his ass, and tops it off with a soft, thin, black, long-sleeved henley. After a moment of dithering, he sprays on a light mist of the expensive cologne Natasha gave him for Christmas. He just finishes putting on his socks when he hears the front door open. He gets up and hurries to Steve.

They kiss at the front door as they always do, and Steve slips him the tongue, as he always does. Then he nuzzles Bucky’s neck, appreciating the cologne.

“Mmm. You smell so good. What’s for supper? Are you for supper?” the big blond sap asks.

Bucky makes a fond but impatient noise, “there’s a Stark thing in Central Park. I wanna go see it. Go change, I’ll wait for you.”

Steve makes a face, but before he can protest, Bucky gives him a gentle shove, “Go. I told Pepper we’d be there.”

Five minutes later Steve returns. If he was surprised to see that Bucky had laid out a nice blue button down shirt, and grey slacks, he didn’t say, but he has dutifully put them on.

As they take the elevator down to the lobby, Steve says with a frown, “Oh, I think I lost my phone. It wasn’t in my jacket pocket.”

Bucky replays sneaking out of the bed last night to snag Steve’s phone and hiding it in a winter boot in the closet. “Huh, that’s weird. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll turn up.” As he says this, he surreptitiously sends Maria a text with his hand shoved in his pocket, clasped around his phone.

_“omw”_

They take Steve's motorcycle, find parking, and walk through the park holding hands. Steve's large hand is tightly clasped in Bucky's metal grip. Bucky always holds important things with his metal hand. Things that he doesn't want to have taken away, things he’d fight tooth and nail to keep. His rifle. His favorite knife. Steve. Not necessarily in that order.

“So how was your day?” Bucky asks.

“Argh. So useless. Fury and Coulson locked me up in a briefing room all day and they made me watch the most boring recon footage. They said it was top priority, but I got the feeling something else was going on.”

“Yeah,” Bucky laughs chidingly, “it’s a conspiracy Steve.” Steve wrinkles his nose, annoyed, and doesn’t notice Bucky’s overly bright eyes.

It’s getting to be early evening, the sun hanging low and lazy just above the horizon, so the huge white glow against the darkening sky is hard to miss.

A fenced perimeter with controlled gates and baby Shield agent surround the event. Floodlights shine on a massive empty stage, although the speakers croon catchy pop tunes for ambiance. There are tens of thousands of people on the grass or on blankets surrounding the stage, waiting for the show to start. Many of them are eating the southern barbecue and fixings being served from various food stations, paper plates carefully balanced on their laps. Chefs tend to industrial smokers filled with ribs, brisket and whole hogs in the designated cooking area, while caterers spoon out portions, including baked beans, fresh corn biscuits, salads etc. There’s also chicken nuggets for the picky children. It’s a free public event and it should be chaos, but it’s not. It’s a relaxed, well organized, and has Pepper`s signature all over it.

A couple of hundred yards from the stage, a huge fancy white tent is discretely guarded. It’s been set up to serve a private dinner for a small number of people, and it includes a wet bar, dance floor and a live band. The interior décor spares no expense, there are linen tablecloths and napkins, gilded cutlery and crystal glasses. Outside and in, there are hundreds of white roses and pale pink peony garlands lit with fairy lights. It’s breathtaking.

There are a dozen camera crews set up in press boxes at the front of the stage. Three rows deep of paparazzi are behind them, cameras at the ready. They are sharp-eyed, waiting and expectant.

“Wow,” Steve whistles, “what’s Tony up to? Is this a concert for charity or something? Can we get some ribs? You know southern barbecue is my new favorite thing.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, instead he texts Maria that they’ve arrived. Within moments, Maria appears. She has on a pale green dress that flatters her slim frame, and her strappy gold flats are silent on the grass.

“Steve, Bucky, follow me, I’ll take you backstage.” Her smile is very wide.

“What’s going on Maria? What’s Tony up to?” Steve asks, apparently giving up on Bucky answering any of his questions.

Maria turns to Steve, resisting the urge to lock eyes with Bucky, “Well, let’s just say it’s going to be quite the show. It’s a big surprise so I can’t give you any details, but it’s airing live in a few minutes so I’m going to need you to get situated. You’re going to get the best seats in the house.”

“Awesome,” Steve grins, and turns a mega-watt smile to Bucky as they follow Maria.

“Awesome,” Bucky echoes back, a little subdued.

Maria ushers them to the backstage area, and out of nowhere a little blonde woman appears to clip mics to Steve and Bucky's shirts before disappearing into thin air. Steve turns and stares at Bucky.

“Buck, what the heck’s going on?” Steve looks nervous and confused. While he is a very good public speaker, he doesn't enjoy being the center of attention.

Bucky’s smile gets a little green and he just shakes his head nervously not knowing what to say. Steve squeezes his metal hand and opens his mouth to say something more when they hear the familiar, sonic sound of Iron Man approaching from the air, above them. The crowd cheers. They both turn to watch a monitor that`s giving them live feed from the stage.

Tony is in his famous three point, bent knee, fisted landing, as ever, a showman. AC/DC now rages from the speakers. He waits for the crowd noise to subside before he throws up his arms wide, above his head, to egg them on, and the crowd goes wild. He freezes the armor in that position, and with whirs and clicks, it peels back by half, and he steps elegantly out of the metal suit, onto the stage. Tony`s brown eyes are electric, and his smile shows both rows of his impossibly white teeth. The music is silenced.

“Hey world! Thanks for coming to our little party! While I know I`m incredibly adorable and you love me, I also know you aren`t here for me so...are you ready for the main event?” Riotous applause and cheers respond. “Well, then without further ado, let’s get them out here! Buck? Cap? Where you? A few million people around the world want to know what you’re up to tonight!”

Steve’s eyes are as big as saucers as Bucky drags Steve on to the stage. The audience literally goes mental when they emerge from the black curtain and the camera flashes momentarily blind them both. Ignoring Steve's bewildered face, Bucky maneuvers Steve to stand on the white star painted near the front of the stage floor, and Bucky takes his place on the red star two feet away. He turns Steve, who is too stunned to be anything but pliant, to face him and only him. He's holding both of Steve's hands in his own.

"Steve," Bucky says, his voice steady, though sounding slightly tinny through the speakers, "uh…" Bucky drops to one knee. Shit, he nearly forgot that part. Steve's jaw drops too.

"Steve," he begins again," remember that time you stopped the McAdams boys from teasing Mira Ledder and got a split lip and shiner for your trouble? She was so grateful she gave you a kiss on the cheek for being her hero. Well, my little eight year old self wanted so bad to push her in the river for taking a peck at you. But, I guess I couldn’t blame her, even though you were my hero first...." Bucky almost panics as he loses his thread. He gives his head a shake to clear it.

Steve`s eyes mist over, “Bucky….” he says in a wrecked voice.

“Let me get through this okay Stevie?” the man on bended knee, whispers. Bucky draws in a fortifying breath.

“So, the point is, even when we were kids, I worshipped you. Then everything happened, the Depression, the War, losing each other…..And I know since you found me in DC two years ago, that _lately_ has been the toughest part of it all. It took everything in me to recover from what they did…to reclaim my memories, my…. soul. I couldn`t have done it without you – I wouldn`t have _bothered_ to do it without you. There were days I was sure I wouldn’t make it. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. But you never gave up on me. You are the strongest, bravest, most stubborn person I know, and you gave me your strength when I had none, you _believed_ for the both us, and in all the ways that count, you've never let me fall. So, here we are, miraculously on the other side. We made it through, _together_. It took all that for me to come full circle, to get back to a simple truth I knew even as little kid. I don't know if I deserve you, but I also know life has nothing to do with “deserve”, so…….. I love you, I claim you, I will always do right by you. Steven Grant Rogers – will you marry me?"

Bucky dips his head and fishes something out of his back pocket. He holds up the circle of vibranium to Steve between his gleaming metal pointer finger and thumb. Of course there are six words engraved on the inside. Of course there are.

Steve snatches the ring from Bucky’s hand with blurring superhuman speed. Steve stares at it transfixed, and reads the inscription as fat tears pool in his beautiful blue eyes.

Steve’s other hand grips Bucky's flesh hand so tightly that bones could break but Bucky doesn’t care. The silence that descends over the park is absolute. The throngs of people in witness, and the millions more on tv that are watching, hold their collective breaths and lean forward.

"Yes, please," Steve says, politely, simply and _happily_. The shouting and applause are deafening, as are the fireworks, the music (Etta James’ “At last”) and…cannons? For the love of God Tony!

Bucky stands up shakily and is immediately crushed in Steve’s embrace and assaulted by Steve’s lips. Bucky never wants this moment to end. He trembles in Steve’s arms, eyes closed, feeling joy so intense, so pure, it physically hurts, but in the best way.

Tony runs from the behind the curtains and wraps his arms around them both. Bucky and Cap open an arm each to him and hug him tight. Then Pepper, Maria, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Thor and Sam are there too, embracing them, creating a big, giggly, teary, wobbly pile in the middle of the stage. Eventually, the Avengers pull apart, but they have their arms wrapped around each other or are holding hands as they face the audience.

Tony lifts up his chin, his cheeks are wet, his long black lashes spiky, “Congratulations Bucky and Cap on your engagement,” he says, “you’re the greatest love story of them all!”

 

EPILOGUE

 

The private tent is for their closest friends only, and while the setting is fancy, everyone is dressed in nice but not formal clothes. Bucky and Steve are sitting at the head table, their foreheads pressed against each other, as they steal a moment to themselves.

"Did you steal my phone?”

“Had to, it was all over the media.”

“Bucky, I cannot believe you proposed to me with the whole world watching!”

“I figured we’re only getting engaged one time, so go big or go home.”

“Yeah, but you hate being in the spotlight more than I do.”

Bucky grunts. “I love you more than I hate anything. ‘Sides, the press was going to find out the details one way or another, and I wasn’t going to be the shlub that proposed to Captain America in sweats in the living room. Also, now everyone knows you're mine.”

“I am yours, and I would have said yes to that shlub.”

“I know, but this is better right?”

“Yeah, it is. I am so happy right now. And so hungry. I’m getting some of that barbecue right?”

 

 

 


End file.
